the boy in front of me asked if the mushroom lasagna was any good
and the woman just shook her head no and said but the chicken was
so I got the chicken even though I wanted the lasagna
and it tasted like pink insulation with too much salt.

my friends and I recorded a song in a mobile studio last night
and the crowd of people around us danced and smiled and sang along
so we sang louder even though we knew we were bad
and discovered that morning that the CD they gave us at the end was blank.

my teacher asked me a question that I didn't know the answer to
and I turned to my neighbor and he whispered it in my ear
so I repeated it even though my throat was clenching up
and I choked back tears that I couldn't explain as I sunk farther into my seat.

my throat is dry just like that chicken and scratchy and sore
and when I speak my voice is low and rough like a blues singer
so I speak more often even though it burns and aches
and relish in the sound for as long as I can.